Lots and lots of challenges!
by mandaree1
Summary: Scorpia is respected and loved.


**Disclaimer: I don't own She Ra!**

**Title: Lots and lots of challenges!**

**Summary: Scorpia is respected and loved.**

**...**

The thing is- the thing is, Scorpia expects challenges, okay? Her whole life has been made up of them. Suspicious glances and muttered whispers and long days spent training more than the normal recruit. The Horde wants perfection. The Horde wants loyalty. The Horde wants to know that Scorpia isn't some Princess traitor.

And, well, Scorpia guesses they failed? Because she's here now. And she's built to go the long haul. They can give her as many long patrols and horrible, scary bits of forest to go trudging through for various techie-things as they want. She's good at that. The Whispering Woods whispers, but it's kind of hard to hear it when you babble when you're nervous. Or happy. Or breathing.

But _the thing is_ that the Rebellion is. Ridiculously well-planned at challenges. They don't do those things. They do things like, say, hand her objects and don't tell her if they're food or gifts, or ask (ask!) her to go on missions. What is she supposed to say to that? "No, I'm good, I've got this splinter in my claw and I just don't feel like fighting in this apperantly totally voluntary war effort today"? Hordak would have her for lunch with a side of that weird sickly-sweet bar they have here. Blubber? Butter? Butter.

And_ this_? Tiny Frosta curled around her tail like it's some kind of soft plush while she snores into her lap? This is easily the best challenge so far. Scorpia would swear by it. Whoever invented this little go around deserves a _raise_, it's so good. Two extra blubber bars for dessert kind of raise! Ingenious.

Also, Scorpia needs to pee. A lot.

"Heeeeey," Scorpia whisper-yells at a passing shadow. Adora's red jacket is a beacon in the dark as she comes into the room, frowning quizzically, and honestly Scorpia's happy to see her. Adora's Horde proud too. She knows these sorts of things. Maybe she'll give hints? She points a big ol' claw at Frosta. "Can I, uh, shift her? Because that's a- that's a not good. Place. Sleeping-wise, I mean. I like that place. But it's got this pointy bit on the end."

Adora blinks, then seems to understand. "The challenges, huh?"

"Yessssss. Can I ask how long this one lasts? I drank a_ lot_ of juice at dinner."

"This one's voluntary."

"They _have_ those?"

"I know, right?" Adora bent over to scoop Frosta up. The Princess mumbled and stirred, just a little, before snuggling into her grip. "I'll get her to her room."

"Is everything voluntary around here?" Scorpia asks, still puzzled.

"Basically."

"How do they get people to... to do stuff?"

Adora shrugs. "I think they just do it because they wanna?"

"No one _wants_ to fight a war," she rebuffs, because duh.

"Maybe, but they _do_ wanna keep their people safe."

Scorpia hums a little, thinking of Emily and flowers and even of salads. They were nice things. Scorpia likes nice things. She would do anything she could to protect those nice things. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

* * *

The next one is a bit of a personal doozy. The General- who is a nice lady, really- makes a request.

"It's come to my attention that many of our soldiers are afraid of your stringer." She holds out an object so small that, if it were living, Scorpia would lose her mind. "They've requested you wear this around the castle."

Scorpia hesitantly tapped the top of the thing. It felt soft, but also firm? Strange. "What is it?"

"It's cork, ma'am. It should allow your stinger to breathe."

"Oh, my stinger doesn't breathe. It's not, like. A thing that needs air. Alive. It's not alive."

The General closes her eyes (presumably to roll them, Scorpia thinks; she's not ever been the best at talking) and then opens them again. "Will you agree? It's your choice."

And here's the challenge! Because Scorpia, for all her virtues, knows from the minute she sees that little cork thing that there's absolutely, one hundred percent, no goddamn way she can stick that thing on her tail herself. And she's always hated her tail being touched.

But what else can she do? She's done everything short of say please.

"Please."

Crap.

"Okay," says Scorpia, shoulders slumping. "But. Um. I can't... claws. Can you?" She gently shifts her tail around. The General watches with raised eyebrows, not afraid but not exactly happy to see it moving, either. "You can hold it and stuff."

It's blissfully quick. She grabs the bulb, stuffs the cork on, and lets go. Scorpia shudders at the contact, but forces herself to smile. "Thanks."

"Your compliance is appreciated," The General replies, looking just as displeased as Scorpia feels. "Sorry about this, soldier."

And that's that, right? Right. The cork feels a bit weird on her tail, but it's not, like, _bad_ or anything. She can move just fine, and that's a plus. Scorpia gets right back to work, hauling heavy boxes around the castle and trying to remember various guard names. It's hard to tell them apart, what with those hats, but she's determined she'll get them eventually. And then get them special cards! With special little messages! That include names! Scorpia is going to be_ so_ gung-ho in that friendship gesture, they won't even see her coming.

She turns a corner with a box of flowers- Scorpia thinks they're called daises- but before she can even call a greeting they're engulfed in a purple aura. "Oh. Thanks!"

"Focus," said Shadow Weaver. "If you drop my new daises, I'll never give you my tea recipe."

Across Shadow Weaver is Glimmer; who, judging by the clenched fist, is the one floating the box. Scorpia eagerly follows it as it makes its way across the lawn to their little seating area outside the gardens. Scorpia thinks 'tea recipe' is probably a newfangled nickname for a good old-fashioned Shadow Weaver beating, though it doesn't make much sense she'd hide her tendencies now. She never did with Catra or Adora.

"Nice weather we're having, ey?" Scorpia greets them, hands on her hips proudly. "Bit of a scorcher out there, but it's doing my skin wonders after the showers we had last week."

Shadow Weaver's eyes narrow slightly. "What," she says, in that _I've studied many scrolls and other things and am very smart and still don't comprehend your weirdness_ tone she gets, "is that?"

Scorpia's smile falters. "The flowers you sent for?"

"Your tail, Captain."

"Oh!" She's kind of surprised Shadow Weaver brought it up, honestly. Scorpia waggles the doohickey around. "It's a cork!"

"I know what a cork is. I'm asking why it's there."

"D'aw, you know how it is." Scorpia shrugs. "The other soldiers didn't like my stinger, so they asked me to put this little thingy on it. Well, I didn't put it on me, the General did, but it's on me and that's what matters!"

"Hmm," says Shadow Weaver, picking a daisy out of the box, which Glimmer has haphazardly set on their table. "I suppose that makes sense. You can be a bit clunky."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"I must admit, I'm surprised to see you take their distrust in such stride, Captain."

The wind in Scorpia's sails goes down a bit, so to speak, but she's still smiling. "Ah, I figure it's fair. I mean, I've stung a good number of 'em. And, honestly? I prefer this over them asking me to cut it off."

"Do you think it'd grow back? I'd love to get ahold of some of the poison."

"No, ma'am. Scorpion tails don't really do that."

"Hmm," Shadow Weaver says again, all interest lost now.

Glimmer sighs gruffly and teleports to her side. "Who made you wear this?"

Scorpia blinks at her. "No one? They asked me."

"Did they?"

"Yes."

"Did they_ really_?"

"Yessss?"

Glimmer rolls her eyes at the situation, having clearly had this exact one before. "Do you _like_ wearing it?"

"I mean, she said please."

"Scorpia."

She flinches. "No, ma'am."

"Then don't."

Scorpia blinks at her. This is a really weird thing to say. Because, like, sure, it makes her a bit uncomfortable, but isn't that better than putting literally everyone ever on edge? "Is this another challenge?"

"A what," says Glimmer, just as Shadow Weaver says, "No, they don't really do those here." The Queen sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. "Scorpia, I get it, okay? I've been through this song and dance before. You've never really been allowed to assert your bodily autonomy, and that's really messed up. You're a person, and you have every right to feel comfortable in your own skin. Does that make sense?"

"She said please," Scorpia repeats, not sure what else to say. Her chest is doing this weird squeezy-deal that she's not sure she likes.

"And you have every right to say no. Let me just-"

And Glimmer reaches for her.

And Scorpia comes to a decision.

"_Please_ don't," she tries, and Glimmer's hand stops. Scorpia immediately feels bad. "I- I mean, if you want to, you can. I just... don't like people touching my tail."

"Okay," Glimmer says, taking a pointed step back. "Okay. I won't touch your tail."

It can't be that easy. It's _never_ been that easy. People have loved grabbing and pulling on her tail since she was a baby. The only one she hasn't had to practically beg was Catra, and that's because Catra also hates having her tail touched. "That's... it?"

"Of course it is. You said no."

"What is even going on anymore?" Scorpia asks, bemused. She gingerly tries to hook her claws into the cork, only for it to slip through. Scorpia winces and waits for some kind of joke or insult about her uselessness.

Glimmer makes a tiny circle with her pointer finger and blasts the cork off. It bounces to the grass, smoking just a little. "There."

"Right." Scorpia stares at it. "There."

"Nice aim," Shadow Weaver calls. "But poor execution."

"Hey, at least it wasn't on fire."

"_This time_."

* * *

"Is that the last tub of ice cream?" Mermista asks, like this is a perfectly normal occurrence at two in the morning.

Scorpia immediately thrusts it out. She doesn't wanna test the Princess of Salineas, especially considering what all has occurred as of late. She hadn't been there for the raid or anything, but that's kind of semantics since she knew it would be happening. Sort of. She knew they were gonna throw a heavy-hitter _somewhere,_ anyway. "You can have it."

Mermista squints at her, blinks, and rubs her eyelids. Scorpia notes a lot of bags under them. "Whatever. It, like, doesn't even matter."

"Want some tea?" she asks, and almost instantly feels like an idiot. "I, uh, I know a special recipe. It's not anything spectacular, or anything, but you look, um, wait, no..."

Catra would kill her for this. Full on snapping and snarling and it'd be all Scorpia could do not to burrito her again. Mermista puts a hand on her hip and says, "I look like a disaster. I know."

"I didn't say anything."

"You said multiple things. One of those things was tea. Is it black tea?"

"No, green. Black is... it's usually caffeinated."

"I'll take what I can get," Mermista says, and snatches the ice cream tub, and then she's gone.

Scorpia ruffles her short hair. "I guess I'm making tea now."

Making tea is a challenge all on its own. In the Horde, the pots and pans are basic metal and built to last. Scorpia's seen cadets chuck them at walls and the _walls_ dented. But the stuff here is all pretty glass and flower designs and _she just can't break that_, okay, she'd hate herself more for ruining it than she would getting in trouble and potentially beaten.

She finds a decent sized cup, white with blue patterns, and carefully pours a cup of her super special tea. She didn't make enough for two. Scorpia figured she'd messed up enough getting caught, leaving extra dishes would just be mean.

Scorpia taps on Mermista's door, about to announce herself, but Mermista's apperantly prepared because she swings that sucker open faster than Scorpia can blink. She's looking a little better, but also somehow worse? Like, she brushed her hair, but there's now a huge glob of ice cream on her armor.

"Thanks," Mermista says, not taking the tea. "Do you know anything about nails?"

"I have some! On my feet."

"I meant, like, painting nails."

"I know absolutely nothing about that."

"Uuuuuggghhhhh," Mermista groans, pulling her inside. "Let's see if we can learn you some class."

Scorpia, as it turns out, can never touch a nail polish bottle ever again. She tries to unscrew one, and it goes kind of sideways and also upside down in what could generously be labeled as a spilling position. Mermista bends the polish out of the floor somehow and starts painting Scorpia's toenails. Scorpia feels her eyes welling up.

"Are you getting sentimental on me?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Ew, feelings."

"I don't think I've ever felt this pretty before. It's nice!" Scorpia pauses, checking the skyline with a frown. "Guess we gotta take it off now, huh?"

Mermista pauses. "I mean, if you want?"

The question in her voice is very confusing. "It's just- I dunno. If someone sees-"

"You wear boots all day."

"I know, but... still…" Scorpia's tail wraps around her knees in a bit of self-soothing. "This sort of stuff is for the pretty Princesses, yeah? I'm not..."

"Uh, no? Nail polish is for everyone."

"I guess. The Horde- I mean, they don't care what I wear outside of work hours, but I just...I dunno. They always said I wasn't..." she gestures to her broad everything. "Built for it, y'know?"

Mermista spins the cap around the bottle. "That's dumb."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Who cares what the Horde thinks? Wear whatever you want." Mermista nods to her spikes. "Whattaya think about painting the tips of those things? It'd give you a real edge."

"Wouldn't that take, like... a _lot_ of nail polish?"

"Yeah, but s'cool. I buy in bulk."

* * *

It takes about two hours for Frosta to stir- granted, Scorpia's not exactly gifted at reading the sun, but she knows what it means when afternoon dips into the reds and pinks of early evening- and during that time Scorpia thinks she's found a pretty nice hole. It's so... hole-y! Circular, dirt, one entrance and exit. Someone could look at it and go 'yup, that there is a hole' and move on.

She kinda-sorta-_really_ wants that move on part.

"My head," Frosta whines, squinting at her. "Scorpia?"

"That_ is_ my name!" she cheers, excited to be remembered. "You took one mighty digger out there, frostbite. I found us a neat little place to rest until you're ready to go back out there."

Frosta props herself up on her elbow. "Why not just take me to the medical tent?"

"Too big a target! Horde soldiers would go right for it if we lost."

"Scorpia," says Frosta, eyebrows raised. "Are you bleeding?"

Scorpia laughs a bit too loud and long. "I mean, blood is really a relative concept, when you think about it? It's just sticky red water, right? Why all the fuss? It just leaks out and gets everywhere and-"

"You're bleeding!" Frosta insists, tearing part of her sleeve off to dab at it. She hisses and stiffens, ultimately allowing the affection. "We gotta get you to the medic!"

"Aww, it's fine, really."

"It's not fine!" She tugged at her arm. "C'mon, Scorpia! Let's go! Before you get a bunch of dirt and things in it!"

Scorpia doesn't yank her arm back, she can't, but she does give a gentle tug, and Frosta lets go. "You go on ahead, frostbite," Scorpia says softly, with a smile. "I'll meet up with you later. Keep that bump iced up, alright?"

Something in Frosta's eyes clicks just right and she sits down, knees tucked under her. "Scorpia, are you scared of the medic?"

She chuckles a little. "Nah, nothin' like that. I just don't need attention, you know? It's not serious."

"Adora got the flu once. It took us two days to find her. She said that she was scared to go to the medic." Her eyes bore into her exoskeleton. "Is this like that?"

Scorpia doesn't answer.

"Are you hiding?"

"Frosta-"

"Were you hiding _me_?"

Scorpia shuffles further back, ashamed.

"Hey, hey, don't do that." Frosta holds out her hand. It's ridiculously tiny. No one's allowed to have hands so tiny. "Medic tents are to fix boo-boos. And if you're scared, I'll hold your claw. Sound good?"

She awkwardly takes it, edging out into the clear. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Frosta proudly led her away, looking for all the world like she'd won something big. "Let's see if we can get matching band-aids!"

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Scorpia asks, eyes tight shut.

"Of course I am, silly!" Perfuma says, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. "It's okay. There's no one here but us."

"But... what if I rip it?"

"Then you rip it! It's _okay_, Scorpia."

That's basically the perfect exact opposite of okay, but Scorpia doesn't really have the logic to argue it, either. It's exactly that easy to give her reason to stick her feet in and pull the fabric over her hips. Things get complicated from there; Perfuma, thankfully, provides vital assistance, gently bringing the straps over her shoulders and zipping up the back.

"Oh, golly," says Scorpia, who's never had help on this sort of thing before. "Oh, geez."

"It's okay to be nervous," soothes Perfuma. "This must be a big step, huh?"

"Sort of? I've worn dresses before, but..."

"Never recreationally?"

"I guess that's the word for it."

Scorpia risks a very brief peek at the mirror, but finds herself stopping and staring. It's a plain sundress; soft reds and soft cloth and a soft little bow around the middle. The straps are jammed between spikes on her shoulders, but that just makes it feel safer. But also more dangerous? It'd be so, so easy for someone to step in and see her like this, and she'd have no chance to change.

"Oh," Scorpia whispers, eyes welling up.

"You look amazing," Perfuma says, then catches her wet eyes and pauses. "Do you not like it?"

"I love it." That's kind of the problem, isn't it? Scorpia slumps down on the bed she's been given and the dress bunches a bit because of how rapid it is, she should definitely fix that, but Scorpia just cries harder. "Oh, gosh, I'm- I'm so sorry. It's just so pretty."

Perfuma hunkers down beside her and takes one claw in her hand, squeezing. "_You're_ pretty, Scorpia."

Scorpia wants to say thank you, but something deep down inside her just can't believe that. Not yet. Maybe someday.

She sniffles. "I really get to keep it?"

"Of course! It's all yours. And you know what the best part is?"

"I get to keep it?" she echoes.

Perfuma giggles. "Yes, but you can have as many as you want!"

Scorpia's eyes get very, very wide. The tears are starting up again. "I can?" she asks, voice raspy. "Won't- won't my closet get too full? And what if I get caught up in a fight and-"

"I fight in a dress all the time! It's very easy with elemental powers."

"Yes, but-" Scorpia stops herself from saying _but you're a pretty Princess, that's different_, and taps her claws together. "Won't people laugh at me?"

"Why would they?"

"I'm not... like you."

The catch in Scorpia's voice makes Perfuma's fingers tighten. "Scorpia, you don't have to wear this anywhere you don't want to," she says. "But how other people view you shouldn't factor into your own personal comfort."

Scorpia blinks at her, waiting for the _but_ in that sentence. There isn't one. She looks back at the mirror, wondering if maybe she could scrounge up more earrings like the ones she had for prom. "I kind of want to never get out of this ever?"

"It's your dress. You can do what you want with it." Perfuma's nose wrinkles. "But maybe wash it here and there?"

Scorpia cries _hard_, and it's a challenge in its own right not to squish the Princess between her pinschers. Perfuma gives just as good as she gets with hugs, though, and when she pulls back there's a single rose in her white hair. It's got little thorns in it, just like Scorpia.

* * *

Nerves do a little jig in her belly as Scorpia enters the room in her pretty new dress with her pretty rainbow-painted spikes and her pretty rose. There's this brief, horrific instance where the entire room looks up, and it honestly feels like the challenge of the day is not running full-sprint out the window, but then they go back to shuffling cards.

"Sit with me!" Frosta urges, patting an open seat beside her. "I made you a thingy to hold your cards!"

Glimmer glances over. "I'm sure it's coincidence that it's just low enough for you to see, right?"

Frosta grumbles about never having any fun and raises the ice platform higher. Scorpia takes the distraction as her chance to move and shuffles into her seat. Spinnerella sets a platter of something green and brown on the table and proudly tells them snacks are served.

"Ants on a log? Again?" Netossa snorts. "You're just tryna starve out the competition at this point, honey."

Scorpia leans over to whisper to Frosta. "What is ants and why are they on wood?"

"It's celery with peanut butter and raisins," Frosta says, "and it's _gross_."

"I don't know what any of those things are."

"Lucky."

Bow grabs the whole platter. "They're delicious and ya'll're just blind to the facts!"

Netossa clucks her tongue. "Over ten years and she still trying to make me into a rabbit."

"It's healthy, dear." Spinnerella gave her wife's hair a good run-through with her fingers before sitting down. "Thanks for coming to game night, everyone. It was getting boring with just us and Bow."

Scorpia raises a claw. "I do not know how to do game night."

"Big same," Adora says, not looking up from her cards.

Mermista groans and hands Sea Hawk her glass of water. "Are we all gonna ignore the _goddess_ that just walked into the room or, like, what?"

Perfuma smacks her arm. "We're giving Scorpia a chance to adjust."

Scorpia turns five shades redder and slinks down in her seat. "Oh. Uh. I mean, ya'll don't have to pretend just for me."

"We're not pretending."

"Yeah, Adora can't act to save her life."

"Tough talk coming from _you_, Bow."

Frosta nods eagerly. "You look so relaxed!"

"Do I? I don't feel relaxed. I kinda feel anxious? But excited? Excitexious?"

"You can do both," Adora says. "_Trust me._"

"We're happy you're comfy," Netossa sums, "but I'll be even happier when I crush you at cards."

Scorpia feels tears coming again, but this time she wipes them away, smiling so wide it hurts. "Thanks, guys. You're the best."

**Author's Note: Season 4 murdered me slowly and painfully, so here's a cute thing where Scorpia learns to have people who respect and appreciate her in her life.**

**-Mandaree1**


End file.
